


The Things We Leave Unspoken

by everydaysoul



Series: Set Me Alight [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dom Misha, M/M, Sub Jensen, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:53:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6448981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everydaysoul/pseuds/everydaysoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, Jensen," Misha says. "Let me tie you up. Face down, spread eagle, on the bed. I could hit you, or I could fuck you.” </p><p>They're just best friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Leave Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to (and contains minor spoilers) for If I Fall Will You Catch Me, which is a J2 fic. But there's absolutely no J2 in this, and can be read as a separate fic.

 

They’re best friends and roommates, the two of them, although Misha’s ahead of Jensen by a couple of semesters. Jensen _likes_ Misha; he’s funny and silly, and he’s _adorable_ when he wakes up in the morning with his blue eyes all bleary and hair all mussed up. Misha’s constantly coming up with crazy ideas that more often than not get them into trouble, and if his stories are to be believed, he took a year off after high school to backpack around Russia.

So that’s why when Misha turns to Jensen one day as they’re both just lazing around their room and says, “Let me tie you up,” Jensen only takes a few moments to mull it over. The idea isn’t terribly tempting, but he’s not going to outright refuse to play with Misha if he asks.

“Yeah, okay,” Jensen says. “What do you want to do?”

“I have rope,” Misha says. He rolls off his bed, sticks a hand underneath it and rummages about for a moment before pulling out a thick coil of bright red rope. Jensen holds out his hand and Misha obligingly hands it over. “I was thinking,” Misha goes on, “Face down, spread eagle, on the bed. I could hit you, or I could fuck you.” He pauses, then adds hastily, “With my fingers, obviously.”

Jensen examines the rope. It’s braided nylon, new and slightly stiff. He uncurls one end, rubs it between his fingers, wonders what if would feel like cutting into his skin. “Why not both?”

It’s Misha’s turn to look uncertain. “You sure about that?

“Yeah.” Jensen shrugs, hesitates, then says, “I’ll let you fuck me too. Properly. I have lube.”

Misha doesn’t say anything for a long time. It’s not like they’ve never experimented with each other, but this will be entirely different from anything they’ve ever tried before.

“Okay,” Misha says, finally. “Want to do it tonight? Richard says they’re having an impromptu movie night thing downstairs, so there shouldn’t be anyone up here to bother us.”

“Okay.” Jensen gets up. He thinks he should have a few more cheap disposable razors left in his travel case. “I’ll go clean up then.”

“You don’t need to.”

Jensen stops, already halfway out the door. He turns back and grins. “Nah,” he says, and slips out for the bathroom.

 

 

 

Jensen stretches himself out across his bed on his stomach, turns his face to one side to watch as Misha strips down and tosses his clothes aside. They’ve already prepared everything; the rope, lube, a couple of condoms, a large pair of scissors. Misha’s whip, a short black and red leather beauty with a heavy glass handle that doubles as a dildo – a gift from Jensen for his birthday, he thought the handle was funny – on the nightstand.

Misha picks up his pillow. “Put this under your hips,” he says.

Jensen gives him a look. “You want me rubbing my cock into _your_ pillow?” He reaches out for his own pillow instead, but Misha shakes his head.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “Use mine.”

Jensen snorts, but accepts it anyway. Misha starts on his hands first, carefully looping the rope around his wrists, anchoring the ends of the rope to the frame of the bed. Jensen cautiously tests it, pulling gently at first then slightly harder, but the knots hold up well.

“How is it?”

Jensen doesn’t bother trying again. He knows how to tie this one; he’d practiced it on Misha just a few weeks ago himself. He obligingly spreads his legs as Misha moves around to the foot of the bed next. “Good. This is the flogging cuff, right?”

“Yup.” Misha falls silent for a moment as he focuses on tying the rope around Jensen’s ankles, and then he says, “I would ask you to give me a hand, but I think you’re kinda tied up now.”

Jensen groans into the sheets; he can almost _hear_ Misha smirking. “I bet you were just dying to say that.”

By the time Misha’s done tightening the final knot, Jensen’s already shivering. His cock is still soft, trapped between his belly and the pillow beneath his hips. Ass raised in the air, arms and legs spread wide apart and tied down so securely that he can’t even move, ropes pulled so taut that there’s no give for him to struggle. Naked, completely helpless, vulnerable, at Misha’s mercy.

“How are you feeling?”

Jensen says the first thing that pops into his head. “It’s cold.” He pulls against his bindings again; he can’t even shift enough to rub his cock against the pillow to get himself off. “And embarrassing. I can’t move,” he adds, as he hears Misha pick up the whip, swinging it through the air to test his strength.

“I would think that’s the point here. Are you ready?”

“No. Give me a second.” Jensen closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and ducks his head down. When he comes up again, he’s still nervous but a little calmer. “Okay, go ahead now.”

The first strike lands squarely across his ass, leaving a narrow tingling stripe behind in its wake. Jensen hisses softly, fights his body’s natural instinct to struggle as the next blow sings across the top of his thighs. Misha covers his ass in light, stinging lines, then moves down his thighs.

“ _Misha_ ,” Jensen says, slightly frustrated, when Misha stops for a moment, as though wondering where to hit next. “You’re not hitting me hard enough.”

“I’m… not?”

“Nope. Come on, I can take it.”

Jensen holds his breath. The next strike lands just under the crease of his ass, and Jensen lets out a small yelp, body tensing and trying to jerk away in shock, because _fuck_ , that actually hurt. His hands clench around the ropes winding across his palm, and the stiff nylon cuts into his skin as he struggles briefly against his restraints.

“Jensen,” Misha says, alarmed. “Are you-”

“Go on, damnit,” Jensen says as he pants heavily into the sheets, open-mouthed. “I’ll tell you when I want you to stop, so _don’t_ stop, go on-”

Jensen can sense Misha’s hesitation even as he raises his arm again, but he’s more sure of himself now, sharply cracking the whip down until Jensen has to press his face against the sheets to muffle himself, because it _hurts_. He can feel the tears forming in his eyes and he desperately blinks them back, feels the ropes around his wrists and ankles digging harshly in as he struggles, but he can’t get away. He refuses to use his safe word, instead tries to focus on the pain, memorizing it, the way it seems to burn hot into his reddened skin.

He’s not going to be able to sit for _days_.

“Last one,” Misha says. “Are you sure about this?”

Jensen feels exhausted. “Green,” he says, trembling, his voice raspy.

The mattress sinks slightly as Misha climbs up, kneels between Jensen’s spread legs. Jensen focuses on breathing, tries not to whimper as Misha massages at his abused ass for a moment, then pulls his ass cheeks apart to expose his hole. And then Misha draws his other hand back, and aims the whip right at the spasming, puckered muscle, and cracks it down three times in quick succession.

The pain is _intense_. Jensen thinks he comes dangerously close to nearly blacking out because it _hurts_ , burning and pulsating and humiliating, and he _thinks_ he might have let out a broken scream of agony. It takes him a long time to calm himself down long enough that he’s no longer feels on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Hey.” Misha crouches down, cups a hand over the back of his head. “You okay?”

Jensen laughs weakly. “Not really, pain isn’t my thing after all. Fuck, it feels like someone rammed a hot iron rod up my ass.”

“We should stop.”

“No.” Jensen tries to reach out as Misha near lunges off the bed for the scissors, forgetting that he’s still tied down. His fingers waggle uselessly in Misha’s direction. “Keep going. Get the lube.”

“You’re insane.”

“I know.” Jensen squirms as Misha liberally squirts cool lube down between his ass cheeks, then gently massages it across his still-tender hole with a finger. Misha slowly eases him open, sliding his fingers in and out until his aching rim stretches to accommodate the intrusion. Jensen plants his face into the mattress so Misha doesn’t see him wince.

“You’re too tight. Relax.” Misha has three fingers buried into him, right up to the knuckles.

Jensen whines when Misha crooks his fingers just into the right spot, his thumb pressing down hard against his perineum. The pleasure makes the little pricks of pain more bearable, and his cock is growing uncomfortably hard, still trapped under his stomach.

“You suck at dirty talk,” Jensen says, then instantly regrets it when Misha sharply prods at his prostate again, making his limbs go weak.

Misha bends down, presses his lips into Jensen’s shoulder in a kiss. “Is that a challenge?” he murmurs, voice suddenly low and rough.

“A critical review,” Jensen says weakly. “You get a star for trying.” He’s not sure if he’s relieved or distressed when Misha pulls his fingers out, leaving him gaping and empty. Turns to watch as Misha tears open a condom packet, perfunctorily strokes himself to hardness, and rolls the condom on.

The pain flares up again as Misha fucks into him, each movement rubbing harshly against the raw, heated skin of his ass and the back of his thighs. Jensen concentrates instead on the way each thrust sends little bursts of pleasure through his spine.

Misha cages him in with his arms, then slips hands under his body to thumb at his nipples. “Feels so good, Jensen,” he says. “The way you’re clenching around my cock because you’re in so much pain, but you can’t get away. You should have seen your hole when I was done whipping it, all red and swollen.”

Jensen arches, crying out as Misha twists at his nipples. 

“But you know what the best part was?” Misha continues. “The way you trying so hard not to scream. You were shaking so hard, making the loveliest sounds I’ve ever heard. You’re too quiet, Jensen, and I promise you, the next time we do this, I’m going to whip you until you’re screaming and begging me to stop. And I would just go on, on and on until you’re too tired to fight back, and you’ve cried yourself hoarse, and all you can do is to lie there and let me fuck you until your ass is completely ruined.”

 _Fuck_. Jensen scrabbles at the sheets, desperate for some leverage, _any_ leverage – but his restraints easily hold him in place. He grits his teeth, then says, “Fuck _you_ , Misha, just you wait till I get my hands on you, then we’ll see who’s going to be the one begging.”

“You’re still tied up,” Misha says like a taunt. “Can’t get away, can’t even _move_ an inch, your legs spread wide and ass up in the air like a slut for me. Going to fuck you so hard, fill you up, then I’m going to whip your hole again until you’re all clenched up and tight again. And then I’ll just start all over again until your pretty little hole is a bloody, sloppy mess.”

“The moment I get free, I’m going to put this rope around your neck,” Jensen says with a growl. “Leash you to my bed, whip you as I fuck your mouth until you’re choking and gasping for breath.”

Misha noses at Jensen’s hair behind his ear. “I’ll like to see you try,” he whispers. “You’re my whore now. Cry and struggle all you want, you’re not going anywhere. I’ll leave you tied down here, plug you up so you’ll be ready for me all the time. You’re mine, every part of you, your ass and your cock and your mouth, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Jensen thinks, then fires back, “I’m going to rub my cock into your pillow until you’ll be smelling dick for the rest of the year.”

That does it. Misha collapses onto him, laughing so hard that Jensen can feel him shaking. Jensen grins smugly to himself, waits until Misha’s stopped laughing, then tries to twist about to buck him off.

“You’re heavy,” Jensen complains. “Hurry up.”

“That wasn’t fair,” Misha says, still giggling, but he pushes himself up again. “Are you close?”

“No,” Jensen confesses. The pain’s affecting him more than he cares to admit. “Jerk me off?”

Misha tugs the pillow away from under Jensen, reaches down to grab his cock. He’s a little too rough as he jacks Jensen off, but Jensen welcomes it, adjusts himself now that he’s regained a little slack in his restraints. He can feel it as Misha comes, the way he suddenly speeds up, fucking him faster and harder, then tenses up.

“Sorry,” Misha says, voice strained. He doesn’t pull out, but continues to tug at Jensen’s cock until Jensen feels his balls draw up, tight and he comes neatly onto Misha’s waiting palm with a small sigh of relief.

“Ouch,” Jensen says, suddenly exhausted. He lets himself fall back down, and he feels Misha carefully slipping out of him.

“Uh. Hang on.” Misha snags a tissue from the box on his desk, wiping Jensen’s come off his hand, then pulls off his condom. Both the tissue and condom go into the bin, and Jensen snorts as Misha seems to just stand there for a moment looking a little lost.

“Just undo the knots,” Jensen says. “Don’t cut them off, it’s a waste of rope. Unless you weren’t kidding about keeping me tied up here and I’m your whore now.”

“Right.”

Misha fumbles as he unties Jensen’s wrists, so Jensen sits up to help pick off the knots off his ankles. It takes him a few tries; his hands are as unsteady as Misha’s now. When that’s done, he kicks the ropes off and shifts to one side so Misha can climb back into bed with him.

For a long time they just sit there, sides pressed up close together. They’re both sweaty and naked still, but Misha puts an arm around his shoulder and Jensen cuddles up to him.

“I’ll go ask Richard when the next movie night is,” Misha says. “You can tie me up then.”

“Mm. You could just _ask_ him to set up movie nights, he likes you.” Jensen doesn’t feel like he wants to move at all. “But I don’t want to use your whip. It’s yours.”

“I’ll get you your own whip,” Misha says. “Or do you want a flogger?”

“Surprise me,” Jensen says. “Let’s try edging too. I’ll blow you until you’re just ready to come, then I’ll hit you.”

“Sounds good.” Misha laughs quietly. “Do you think things will ever work out between us?”

Jensen shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

They like each other, but that’s all about it to their relationship, Jensen thinks. He’ll rather that they stay this way than trying for something that will never happen. It’s something that they’ve silently come to terms on, a long time ago.

“I’m going to sleep for a bit,” Jensen says. He pokes Misha in the sides until Misha releases him, and Jensen wriggles down until he’s lying in Misha’s lap. “You may put lotion on my ass while I’m asleep. God, I’m so sore down there.”

“But you’re sleeping on me,” Misha points out.

“Good luck reaching for the lotion then,” Jensen says. He grins, then closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh this was just an excuse to write porn.
> 
> (Also inspired by a random detail I noticed on a few BDSM Doms' blogs - that they experience being on the receiving end as part of their learning process, before applying anything to their Subs)


End file.
